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October wasn’t exactly Erik’s favorite time of year, but at the very least it was a reasonable temperature for once. For him, August and September were the peak of his yearly suffering. It took a surprisingly low amount of heat to make him melt into a puddle, useless and unable to think. He had even gotten heatstroke once this past month, but El had let him flop against his shoulder all afternoon, so it hadn’t been a complete loss.
If only El would let him do that all the time, he could go back to loathing the summer months in peace.
“Erik,” a familiar female voice called in greeting. His head shot up from the table, his eyes flying open. “Please tell me you’ve got something with caffeine. I feel like shit.”
“Morning, Ronnie,” Erik said brightly. Her glare only intensified as she slapped her bag down on the floor, licking her dry lips as she plopped herself down in the chair across from him. “You probably need this more than I do anyway.” A can of iced coffee clinked down on the table in front of her.
“Goddess, I hate coffee,” she grumbled, but she took it anyway, cringing at the very first sip. “Your boyfriend asked if you were free today for a date earlier.”
His breath caught. Why did that word sound so right when he knew full well it was wrong?
Erik buried his face in his crossed arms again, propping his chin between his forearms and making a valiant effort to conceal the guilt he was feeling. “El isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Whatever.” Veronica shrugged. “You’re obviously into him. Same thing.” She took another draft of the coffee in her hand, shuddering but looking undeniably more awake. To be fair, her original look had set a low bar, but it was an improvement.
“What did he actually want? He didn’t ask me on a date for real, right?”
The can hit the table with a metallic click . “Hell if I know. I’m just passing on the message.” She watched as Erik groaned and stared at the table, idly tracing circles on it with his finger. “Has it occurred to you that you could, I don’t know, actually talk to him? Wouldn’t that be easier? That’s what I’d do in your position. I’m not as stupid as you, mind.”
“Shut up,” Erik hissed, and she smugly obliged.
Gemma practically waltzed into the room, floating on an invisible cloud, glowing with a strange sense of positivity that she had yet to inflict on either of them. One thing Erik and Veronica could agree on was that their third tablemate didn’t deserve their appreciation, not at 8AM on a Thursday. Usually by lunch they both warmed up to her. Gemma was just too nice to dislike in the long run.
Erik tried to focus on the homeroom announcements, he truly did, but El was more worthy of his attention anyway, so he felt little to no regret about letting himself stray to those blue-gray eyes.
***
El’s attention was fully drawn by the contents of his locker, and so he nearly jumped at the light tap to his shoulder, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw who it was.
“You still aren’t used to that?” Erik teased, daring to lean in and rest his chin on El’s shoulder, his blue hair twining with El’s soft brown.
“No.” El slid two textbooks into the back of his bag, tugging furiously at the zipper that he refused to admit was broken. El chalked it up to pulling at the wrong angle, but Erik (and probably most of their other friends) knew it was a lie. “Did Veronica talk to you? I wanted to ask if - “
“ - I was free today,” Erik finished, closing El’s locker for him while he continued to battle with the zipper. “And yeah, I am. Was there something you wanted to do?”
El’s eyes lit up with excitement as he turned to face him, a little spark that set the kindling in his heart aflame with a single glance. “Yes! It’s complicated, but … would you let me draw you? Um, use you as a reference? For drawing?”
“Sure,” Erik agreed. “What’s complicated about that? Sketching nude figures or something? Pretty obvious that you’d pick me for that, I guess.”
El flushed a brilliant shade of scarlet.
“Relax, I wasn’t serious - unless, oh fuck, do you actually want - “
“ Erik ,” El whined, and the way he pressed his hands into his cheeks gave away just how warm they were. “I just meant that I’m doing a month-long art challenge and I might need you for more than one of them. Inktober. It’s like MerMay with art.”
“You don’t even use ink, though,” Erik pointed out. “There are themes, right? What’re you drawing today?”
“It's supposed to be something angelic.”
“And you chose me ?” Erik asked incredulously. “Are you sure you don't want Serena or something? She’s probably got a halo somewhere in that drama closet of hers.”
El combed his fingers through a lock of his hair, a taks that suddenly demanded all of his visual focus. “You’re pretty,” he offered softly, the remnants of the blush intensifying slightly.
It was nowhere near the heights it had achieved earlier, but it was a start. He could be brought right back to that kind of cute embarrassment at a moment’s notice.
In a sudden stroke of boldness, Erik linked his elbow through El’s. A good move, because the little laugh and the overall closeness he was rewarded with was totally worth it.
It was only about three blocks from the school to El’s place, but they took their time. The sidewalk was coated in a carpet of orange and red and yellow, all leaves from the maple trees lining the streets. The overall effect was striking, creating the impression that Erik had stepped into some kind of season simulation. Most of the foliage in his own neighborhood was evergreen, and he rarely got this kind of autumn experience. It wasn’t unlike being slapped in the face with color, Erik thought as El fumbled with his keys.
“Hello?” El called out to the house at large, hanging his keyring on a little row of decorative pegs by the door. His went on the purple one, Erik noticed.
“El, is that you? You’re home?”
Amber swung into view from the doorframe of her office, waving to them with one hand. Catching sight of Erik, she smiled gently in that soft motherly way that made him want to break down sobbing.
Not wanting to intrude on her work or dump his emotional problems on her, Erik wordlessly waved back.
“I can just get a sketch of you now, and you can go soon after that,” El explained, leading Erik into his room. He swept the curtains open to let in more light.
“And what if I want to stay?”
“Then stay,” El replied, seemingly without thinking, like it was something simple, a question that he never needed to ask in the first place. Erik could tell he thought he had been joking, and it hurt all the more that El’s response was lighthearted too. If only he knew how serious he was. He’d stay for days on end, just living by El’s side, if El would let him. Not to mention Mia’s likely jealousy, and Frysabel’s concern, and Krystal’s … Krystal-ness.
On second thought, maybe living with El wasn’t his finest idea.
“Could you just - “
El’s fingers brushed against his cheek before tilting his chin slightly to the left. Erik did his best to hide the way his heart skipped a beat when El maintained eye contact a fraction of a second too long, unable to rip his gaze away.
El curled up in a chair across from him, attempting to hide the blush behind his sketchbook. He flipped through countless pages already filled, and Erik couldn’t help but wonder what else he had drawn. It was something personal, a piece of El he didn’t know yet. A piece he desperately wanted to see. A piece he wanted to memorize. But it was private, and he couldn’t just ask El to show it to him. Erik would never forgive himself if he had pressured El into anything , even this.
He knew all too well how terrifying it was to open up, to be left on display for someone else to see.
“When I’m done each day I’ll post them,” El said offhandedly. His eyes were still focused on the sketchpad, occasionally leaping up to Erik’s figure, but pulling themselves back quickly, as if Erik were some kind of forbidden sight, and whenever he dared sneak a glance he had to let his gaze dart around to conceal his indulgence.
“Are you going to color them, or no?”
El shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t think so. It takes a long time, and … art stuff’s expensive.”
“See, this is why I stick to photography or digital art. Buy a subscription to Adobe stuff, and that’s it. Nothing else necessary.”
Sparkling dusty blue eyes rose to meet his. “You’re distracting me.”
“Not my fault you couldn’t come up with a good argument for that,” Erik shot back, but at El’s exasperated look he shut up, allowing him the focus necessary to do whatever he was doing. His hair fell in his face while he was working, and it wasn’t half bad just watching him concentrate on the drawing. Erik could probably observe him for hours. Maybe that had something to do with the intensity in El’s eyes.
What Erik wouldn’t give to have that intensity directed at him.
It would be so easy. All he would have to do was allow his eyes to linger, and the next time El’s eyes darted to him, they would stay. All he would have to do was lean in a little closer, let his hand trail along El’s cheek, his thumb drag across his bottom lip, hear the way he’d inhale sharply -
“Erik?”
His eyes flew open. Everything was the same, except that there was that subtle gap between them. The barrier keeping everything he wanted away from him. The line he couldn’t ever let himself cross.
“Sorry,” Erik apologized, wondering if El could tell how many different things he was apologizing for. “I got kinda distracted. Uh, did you say something?”
A half-smile pulled the corner of El’s mouth upwards. “I said, I’m pretty much done. You don’t have to stay while I turn you into an angel. When I’m done I’ll post it, alright?”
Maybe if Erik weren’t so terrified of his own feelings, he’d have stayed. But he wasn’t going to lose El to something as trivial as a crush. El was one of his best friends, damn it, and he couldn’t lose him. If that meant keeping it all under lock and key, that was fine. Erik was already well acquainted with secrets. This was just another to add to the collection.
“See you tomorrow, then?”
“Sure. Jade has a volleyball game, right? Want to come with me? Make it a date?” El offered, tugging his sketchbook close to his chest as Erik brushed past him on the way to the door. Sure enough, Erik had been trying to sneak a glance … but it was him in the sketches, so he figured it was okay.
“Yeah, ‘course,” Erik replied, trying not to think about his choice of words, but he couldn’t help the winning grin that crossed his lips as he swung El’s door closed behind him.
The bus ride was usually boring, but with the prospect of spending time with El and skipping English class to look forward to, Erik couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than stare out the thick, scratched window, practically buzzing with anticipation.
***
Erik spent the entire remainder of the day constantly checking on El’s social media page, waiting for his drawing to appear, refreshing and refreshing and refreshing and -
“What the hell? I thought you said you were gonna make me cookies today,” Mia whined, tugging on his right arm, while his left continued to hit the refresh button, hopelessly awaiting his own artistic rendition.
“Change of plans,” Erik mumbled, yanking his hand back. “Make your own damn cookies. You know where the recipe is. Blue folder on the left side of my table.”
“Oh, leave him be, Mia,” Frysabel scolded. His sister huffed in irritation before storming off into Erik’s room. Was she legitimately going to make cookies? That was nice. Suspiciously nice.
Assuming she’d share at all. Knowing Mia, that was unlikely, but knowing his own stealing abilities, it was probably going to happen whether she liked it or not.
Erik refreshed the page again. Nothing. It was probably a lost cause.
Krystal sighed from behind him. “Don’t you have better things to do? Your homework from today, for example? Or perhaps the history notes you’ve been stalling on?”
Erik closed the tab with El’s art page, switching over to his digital history textbook instead. Unlike El, he was far too lazy to take his physical textbooks home with him. Erik knew he could easily strain himself carrying all that, and he had to take care of himself, right? “I didn’t tell you about those.”
“Oh, and you expected I wouldn’t see the note on your wall?”
Frysabel offered him a knowing look. “I for one trust Erik to manage his own workload.” She tugged her wife away to help Mia (and probably prevent her from eating the raw dough, to her dismay).
Erik grinned as he leafed through the pages of his history notebook. Frysabel knew him a little too well.
In between sections of the text, he allowed himself to check on El’s page, but there wasn’t anything waiting for him until he was done, almost as if El had posted it as a reward for him.
For a moment, he was powerless to do anything but stare.
He had been captured perfectly. His lips were caught in the half-smirk he wore when he was amused, his eyes shining with light from an unseen origin. As ever, his hair was windswept from a nonexistent breeze (untidy, but he didn’t like to admit that), but El had made it look elegant and casual. The only difference between himself and the sketch was the ring of light, angled to match the slight tilt of his head. He had expected to think the halo was overkill, but strangely enough, it was the perfect touch.
When had he ever looked this beautiful?
Even as Erik admired his own angelic form, he couldn’t help but wonder if El was the true angel between the two of them.
Thirty more days of this sounded like paradise.